


Bonder of Souls

by cl3rical_3rror



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Consequences, Depression, F/M, Harems, Horror, Multi, Rape, Smut, Soul Bond, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-03
Updated: 2019-01-02
Packaged: 2019-07-24 11:46:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16174433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cl3rical_3rror/pseuds/cl3rical_3rror
Summary: Harry has low self-esteem and a penchant for sacrificing himself for others. How do you think it would really play out for him if he had instant soul-bond/ stepfordizing sex?Probably not too well.





	1. In love for the first time

Ron sat across the table from me, and I flicked my wand to reduce the rancor from the rest of the pub.

We looked at each other uneasily.

“Hey mate,” he said with false ease. “What did you need to talk about?”

I opened my mouth, but the words wouldn’t come out on their own. I took a moment to marshal them, to drive them out.

“I think there’s something seriously wrong with me,” I said.

His expression evened out into a familiar concern. I saw his eyes dart to my forehead. I almost smiled as I saw him restraining himself from asking if it was about my scar.

“It’s not about my scar,” I said lightly. “It’s not about Voldemort, it’s about me. I think there’s something about me, something that does something to the people around me, to the people that get close to me.”

Ron frowned in thought.

“This is different,” he said, “than back in school? When you were afraid that being close to you would get us all killed.”

I nodded.

“I’m not worried that I’m putting people in a dangerous position,” I said, “I’m more worried that I’m actually changing the people around me.”

“Like me?” he asked, his expression surprisingly light.

“Not like you,” I said, and his face darkened.

“There you are!” we both startled as a familiar voice intruded.

I looked and I saw her. I swallowed heavily. 

“Hermione,” Ron breathed as she leaned over the table, interposing herself between us.

“Hello Ronald,” she said politely. “I’m afraid I’ll have to steal Harry here back to our flat. I’m sure you wouldn’t want to be the cause of dooming Harry to work-induced oblivion. Isn’t that right, Harry?”

I gulped again before I even noticed the wand peaking out from her sleeve, just out of Ron’s view.

“I…” I sent a last, pleading look at Ron, “I suppose so. Good to see you, Ron.”

He looked puzzled as I was dragged out of the pub.

I hoped that he could piece things together, but I knew it was in vain. I hadn’t said anything meaningful. I thought I would have more time, and now I doubted I’d ever be given the chance to speak to him privately again.

Hermione side-along apparated us to our pristine flat. I fell down and stared at the freshly cleaned floor. Hermione pulled me up and stared into my face with a serious expression.

“You making loving you very difficult, Harry,” she said.

I let out a wet laugh, then I cried.

_______________________________________________________________________________________

The clues were there from the beginning, but it took me a while to put it together. 

There were too many unknowns. Maybe this was how love was, maybe this was all hormones. I never considered the truth of the matter.

It started in a tent in the Forest of Dean. If you wanted to be mean about it, you could say it started with Ron’s self-fulfilling prophecy.

He accused us of getting together behind his back and then turned his back on us, leaving us together, and with no one else to lean on.

It didn’t happen that night, but it didn’t take too many more nights for it to happen. 

We both needed so much, and all we had was each other. 

There was the song on the wireless and we danced. We didn’t want to let go of that moment so we held onto each other. I pulled my head back and looked into her eyes. What I saw there was the fear, the loneliness, the insecurity that I felt.

With one hand I stroked her face and with the other, I pulled her closer. We pressed our lips together slowly and kept them there. There was a quiet, methodical urgency to what we did. We weren’t rushed, but there was a desperate need to all we did.

Our bodies pressed more closely together, my hand caressed her neck. She ran her hand through my hair and pressed my head deeper into our kiss. Her other hand ran down my neck to my chest and I moaned with need.

We broke from our kiss to look at each other again. We saw the same need and kept going, our jackets falling to the floor. I kissed across her jawline and down her neck to just above her collarbone while she started undoing the buttons on my shirt.

She succeeded and flung it over my shoulders, but pulled it tight, momentarily pinning my arms to my sides. She pulled with one hand and pushed against my chest with the other, walking me backward until my legs hit the bed and we both fell onto it. 

She seemed surprised to find herself straddling me, so I pulled my arms free of my sleeves, pulled myself up into a sitting position and put my hands on either side of her face.

I kissed her. Slowly, hungrily. 

She responded in kind and pulled my right hand down to her chest. I began to gently squeeze and caress her clothed breast as my left hand did much the same on her bare neck.

Her moan vibrated through my mouth. 

She broke off our kiss and began moving down my neck with her lips and fingertips. The cool touch of her digits and the searing warmth of her mouth and tongue sent jolts through me.

I hurriedly grasped the bottom of her shirt and pulled it up to expose more of her skin to the same treatment

She backed off to let her clothes pass over her head, but before she could do anything I spun us around and pinned her against the bed and kissed her just behind hew jaw and under her ear. Her surprised squeal turned into a moan as my right hand stroked the other side of her neck and traced the lines of her collarbone.

I slowly worked my way down to her chest, waiting until her eagerness matched mine. I slowly orbited her nipples with my mouth, laying light kisses, tentative licks, and gentle bites on the very edge of her breast, while my hand traced meaningless patterns across her ribs and hips.

I realized that I didn’t have a plan for taking off her bra, but before I could panic, she arched her back, reached behind with both arms and undid it herself. As she did so, her torso pressed against mine and seemed to send a surge of energy into my body.

I must have paused overlong because she then wrapped her legs around my midsection, grabbed my head and pulled it back against her breast. One hand ran through my hair and the other began scratching against my back with her nails.

She gasped as I moaned directly onto her breast. I recovered myself and resumed my slow trip to her nipple, my right hand now executing a similar spiral on her other breast.

As I continued getting closer, her breathing came in great heaves, the movement of her chest pulling at the soft grip my mouth had on her breast. I heard a soft gasp as I ran my tongue lightly over her nipple, then around its edge in a circle. I kissed it and felt a nub just beneath her skin at the tip and I squeezed it between my lips. In response, her legs tightened around me, and her arms stiffened as they gripped my back. 

I spiraled back out and back in a few times, moving a fair bit more quickly. As I started to pull away I felt her fingers run through my hair and pull me up to her face. She kissed me deeply and urgently, her pure need being communicated perfectly. Her hands trailed down my neck and chest and reached for my belt. I froze in surprise, but she just kissed me all the more urgently.

As I returned my attention to Hermione’s lips, tongue, and teeth, I felt my jeans and boxers slide down my legs. I absently kicked them off of my ankles as I leaned further in to kiss and nibble on her earlobe.

I wasn’t the only one moving, though, as she trailed her fingers from my neck, down my chest, along my side and ending in a grip on my penis. I pulled my head back and looked at her face.

She responded by flipping us over and standing up. She made quick work of her own jeans and panties and seemed about to jump on me before she caught me staring.

“What is it?” she asked.

“It’s just,” I looked from the elegant curve of her neck to her soft, round breats to her small stomach to her shapely legs. My gaze went back up to her distinctive hair, kind face, and brown eyes.

“It’s just that I know you so well, but it’s also like I’m seeing how beautiful you are for the first time,” I said.

The edges of her eyes crinkled as she smiled. She climbed onto the bed and set herself over me. Her hands supported her on either side of my head as she looked me in the eyes.

“I want this Harry,” she said. “I need this, just like you do.”

A final slow kiss and she leaned back, hands resting gently on my stomach. Her hips settled down on mine and she trapped my penis beneath her and against my stomach. A little more weight rested on her hands as she started grinding her lips against my penis. It felt warm, and wet and intoxicating. I wanted nothing more than to slip into her and cum right then, and also to drag out this moment for eternity. 

I closed my eyes and focused on the feeling while running my hands up and down Hermione’s thighs. When I opened them again, I found myself hypnotized by the soft sway and jiggling of her breasts. I used a hand to brace myself and push myself up enough to kiss her nipple.

She moaned and I followed the kiss with a lick, a soft bite, and more kisses. Her hand wrapped around the back of my neck and held my head in place. She lifted her hips and grasped my penis with her other hand and slowly, tortuously slowly, began to lower herself onto me. 

The urge to thrust into her immediately made itself felt, but I resisted and focused on focusing as much pleasure as I could through her breast and used my free hand to run laps from her ribs all the way down to the sole of her foot.

I tried not to concentrate on the warmth that was enveloping my penis. I tried not to notice the slickness that slowly spread throughout her as she moved up in down. I couldn’t even pretend to ignore the feeling as I slid fully inside her and her weight settled fully on my hips.

I pulled back from her breast and we kissed and we kept kissing.

She gradually started to rock her hips back and forth and pleasure filled my penis. As her movements grew, I started moving with her until every thrust was almost across my entire length.

We looked each other in the eyes and each laid a hand on the side of the other’s neck.

I thought of saying something but couldn’t think of anything that would do justice to this moment, to this connection that I felt with her.

So I said nothing as we looked at each other, as we shared of ourselves.

The pleasure and tension built and built. It could have been for minutes or for hours and I wouldn’t have known the difference. I tried not to come first. When she got close, she started moaning harder and almost grunting with effort. With the sight of her, I couldn’t stop myself from spilling into her immediately.

She kept going and was able to finish before my penis became flaccid, though for me the sensations grew sharper and rode the line between pleasure and pain. I was happy, though, that both of us had cum.  
She lay down and rested against my chest and we slept.

______________________________________________________________________________

It was good, that night. I think I can still treasure it. I think she was still herself, then. Maybe I just want to believe that. Maybe I just want to believe that she really chose me at least once. I know it wouldn’t really change things, but it feels different. It feels as though that would be just the tiniest bit better.


	2. Gift Horse

I almost panicked as I woke up.

The expanded tent was still an unfamiliar setting, and for several moments I couldn’t process what was happening to me.

After a few moments, my brain started working. The numerous light sensations on my jaw, neck, and shoulder were touches from Hermione’s hair as worked my neck over with her mouth.

I slowed my breathing and she worked her way up to my ear. She licked along the lobe.

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” she said and finished by softly nipping at my ear.

“Morning,” I said, keenly aware that my breath was probably terrible.

Hermione seemed oblivious to that, though, as she started trailing kisses down my neck and chest.

I was entirely nonplussed. Well, almost entirely. There was one part of me that knew exactly how it wanted to react, a fact which Hermione noticed. She grasped my penis firmly and began tugging even as she took my nipple into her mouth and sucked.

The rest of me was still confused. In the little thought I’d given to the issue the night before, I had figured that we would be at the very least a bit sheepish this morning. Things would be more awkward but also more intimate and we would have to decide whether that night was a turning point or a fluke for us and our relationship.

I didn’t think that-

My brain screeched to a halt as Hermione, her mouth, her tongue, and her teeth were meandering towards my crotch. I grew self-conscious about the fact that we hadn’t cleaned up after last night. As Hermione’s hand continued to pump my penis, it felt just a little slimy.

Hermione, however, didn’t hesitate as her head reached it. She pointed it towards my head and licked up it starting at the base and following the frenulum. 

I shuddered.

She reached the tip and kept her going until the tip of her tongue glided along my slit. Then she opened her lips and took my tip into her warm mouth.

I groaned with pleasure and my hands found their way into her hair.

Her tongue swirled around the head of my penis before she started a slow back and forth motion, slowly working more of my penis into her mouth. I started to hit the back of her throat, but she kept trying to go deeper and began to make choking sounds.

She looked up at me with determined but watering eyes. She must have seen that I was much more concerned than aroused by her gagging herself against my penis, so she backed off a bit. Her lips smiled at me from around my girth and she continued sucking what she could safely fit in her mouth.

I could feel the pressure start to build in me, but before things got too imminent Hermione pulled her mouth off of me. She crawled off the bed then grabbed my legs and pulled them off too so that I was half off the bed. I sat up and looked at her as she kneeled between my legs.

“Hermione,” I breathed, “what is goi-”

I gasped as she pressed her breasts against my penis and slowly, tortuously, moved up and down my length.

She smirked up at me.

“Tell me where you want to cum, Harry,” she said in a tone I’d never heard from her.

“Wha?” I said.

“Do you want to cum on my tits?” she asked. “Would you rather cum in my mouth? Do you want to cum in my pussy, like you did last night?”

I spluttered, unable to process both what was coming out of Hermione’s mouth and what she was doing to me.

“Oh,” she said excitedly, “is none of that hot enough for you? Do you want to splash your seed all over my face?”

My jaw dropped.

“Oh, you deviant,” she said. “You want to cum in my bum, don’t you? Not even together for twelve hours and you’re already looking to finish the hat trick?”

She maneuvered herself so one arm was holding her breasts in place as she continued to rub them up and down my penis. She had slowed down as I had gotten closer and closer to finishing.

She stuck the ring and middle fingers from her other hand into her mouth and sucked on them for a moment. She slowly withdrew them and they glistened with her saliva. She smirked at me as she put that hand behind her and used it to penetrate her own anus.

Her expression became slightly strained, but her arm started to shake and her fingers pressed themselves in and out of her.

I was petrified. 

I was confused.

I was also aroused.

Her moans drew me on and I shot my sperm against her neck and down her breasts.

She shuddered as if experiencing an orgasm of her own. Her hand continued to work her anus over while the other gleefully smeared my ejaculate all over her chest.

It was strange that she truly seemed to enjoy what she was doing. It was not only a departure from Hermione’s usual behavior but from that of all women who aren’t being paid to perform.

I ignored it though. 

“I’m not willing to look a gift horse in the mouth,” I had said.

“I’m just willing to fuck it there,” I avoided saying.


	3. The Disorganized Mind

I slept late into the day.

Even as I woke, I kept my eyes closed and tried to will myself back into my dreams.

The ambient light flared through my eyelids; I pulled a pillow over my face. The sound of voices and people bustling about threatened to rouse me, but I kept my mind from parsing the sounds and thereby dragging my thoughts towards the land of the living.

I had fought and given my all to the fight.

Part of me regretted having to walk away from it. As much as defeating Voldemort had been the climactic moment, the sudden and final victory, it had also been the frying of the bigger fish.

Now that he was taken care of, there was a problem that I could ignore no longer.

My bed curtain tore open and I prepared myself to deal with-

“Ginny?!” I asked.

She was looking me right in the eyes but seemed to be startled as well. She recovered first.

“Up and at ‘em lazybones,” she said. “Just ‘cause you saved the day again doesn’t mean you get to sleep the day away.”

I continued to stare at her dumbly, relishing the spark in her eyes.

The pause as we looked at each other was a weird combination of awkward and comfortable.

She cleared her throat and broke the spell.

“Well,” she said, “I guess I’ll let you get dressed.” Her eyes paused significantly on my bare torso. “Try not to miss dinner like you missed breakfast and lunch.”

And she was gone. 

* * *

 

It was distinctly odd to pace familiar halls while navigating craters, missing sections of floors, and other spell damage.

Nevertheless, I hustled through a shower, a hearty meal in the kitchens, and found myself wandering through the stacks of books in the library.

Research had always been her thing.

I took a fortifying breath and kept walking, but it was difficult. Not only the idea of the library but the smell of the books, the creak of the floors, the way the room filtered the evening light, all these things reminded my brain of the old Hermione. Before I had changed her.

I wished that Dumbledore were still here. He would have known what this was, what I could do about it.

I pulled a reference tome on potions and looked in vain for a similar book on mind magic and curses. I put the potion book down and went where I should have started my search. The spells keeping students out of the restricted section appeared to be inactive, but I would still have to be wary of those on the individual books.

I espied the familiar Moste Pontent Potions and snagged it. Magicke Moste Evile and Ensnaring the Mind were quickly added and I figured I had a good start.

I figured wrong.

There were more love potions than just Amortentia, but none of them quite matched her symptoms. Outwardly, sure, Hermione had become obsessed with a single person romantically. However, she retained her mind in a way that was both more and less disturbing. With love potions, there was a noticeable ‘dumbing down,’ that occurred. The victims would be distressed if their target was out of their sight, would always strive for close contact, and would invariably smother the target in their affection.

While Hermione had become distressingly obsessed with me, she was much more focused on me than on her possession of me. Everything was for my pleasure or for my welfare. No sex act was too taboo or demeaning, and no slight good for me wasn’t worth hours of her own effort. She had been impressive and even helpful in her devotion. While the sex was great, it’s pleasure for me waned as I began to realize that something had happened, that I had done something to her. What was most helpful was the training. She made us exercise, look up useful spells, and practice late into the night. Our growing proficiency had helped us both survive the final battle, even if it didn’t prove the difference in my conflict with Voldemort.

She didn’t accidentally drink a love potion keyed to me. She wasn’t a person drunk on an obsession, she was a new person, built wholly around her obsession.

I shuddered.

The indices of the books from the restricted section were unhelpfully non-existent.

I flipped through the pages looking for something similar to Hermione, but the language was so abstracted and specialized that I couldn’t be sure that I hadn’t already passed it over.

I turned to the introduction of Ensnaring the Mind and began to take detailed notes as the author defined terms in the most erudite of ways. I had hoped that Hermione wouldn’t have to wait for me to master an entire magical discipline before I could help her. I tried not to acknowledge the thought that I might have to master this discipline just to see if it held an answer at all.

Palms slapped down on the table across from me, and I jumped. Looking up, I beheld familiar brown eyes boring into mine.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” Hermione said at a normal volume. In the library.

“I’m trying to fix you,” I whispered harshly.

“I don’t need fixing,” she replied.

“You’re different!” I said. “You can’t deny that I changed something about you, something important, something fundamental!”

“So what if I am different?” she asked. “I like who I am now, I don’t want to revert to whatever idyllic memory you’ve created for yourself. I just want you to be happy! I’m focused more than anything on making the man that I love happy, what’s so wrong with that?!”

I was taken aback for a moment. It sounded reasonable and for a second I considered that maybe I was blowing everything out of proportion, maybe this was just what people did when they were in love, maybe I didn’t feel that way because I can’t love someone that much.

I blinked.

But no. I did know what it’s like to love. I did know how to lay down your own life for your friends. I knew that it doesn’t involve losing yourself as a person.

I breathed.

“Hermione,” I addressed her calmly, “I understand how you feel. I think that the very way that you think has been affected by some type of magic. I think that if we address it, then you’ll be happier. Now tell me, is it so bad of me to want that for you?”

She sat down across from me.

“So what you’re saying,” she said, “is that if someone you care about is in trouble, it’s ok to go against what they want for their own good and happiness?”

“I think that’s a harsh way of putting it, but in your case, I think it’s what I have to do,” I said. “Actually, would you mind helping me research? I’ve gotten in a bit over my head.”

She smiled her perfectly symmetrical smile at me.

“I’d do anything to make you happy, Harry.”

With that, we got to studying. Hermione pulled several more books from the shelves, most with titles in languages I couldn’t even read. After I complained about a lack of indices in the older tomes she even started scratching out a consolidated index of her own on loose parchment, beginning, of course, with the topics we were searching for.

It was slow going, but I eventually settled into a groove. It felt nice to finally be working on a solution for Hermione. It eased the guilt that had begun to weigh more and more heavily on my soul.

A throat cleared behind me. I turned and saw Ginny, looking apprehensively between me and Hermione.

“I’m not… interrupting anything, am I?” she asked.

Hermione and I shared a glance.

“Um,” I said at the same time that Hermione said, “Not at all!”

We shared another glance.

“That’s, er, all right, I suppose,” said Ginny. “It’s just, could you find me to talk sometime soon, Harry? I missed you at dinner, and it took me a while to track you down after.”

I felt Hermione kick me beneath the table.

“I’m, uh, free for a bit now,” I said.

Her face lifted, though she threw a speculative glance at Hermione.

“Great, let’s go somewhere where we can talk,” she said.

She led us into an unused classroom. It was difficult to keep my eyes from roving over her figure. It had been too long.

“Evanesco,” I said, and the dust off of two desks cleared.

We sat down and didn’t quite look at each other. My eyes were drawn to the lower edge of her skirt, and her toned thighs.

“Harry, I…” she trailed off and I looked her in the eyes. They were wide and beautiful and vulnerable. Our gazes locked onto each others’ like magnets.

“I,” she began again, “realize that in the past year, things may have happened. And… and I’ve decided that that’s ok. That we can start fresh here if you want. That what’s happened doesn’t have to keep us from being happy, because I love you and I just want us to be happy and together from here on out.”

She gave me a hesitant smile, but I couldn’t return it.

“Ginny, I l- I care for you so much,” I said. “But I can’t. I’m… I’m with Hermione now. I can’t lea… I won’t break that off now. We’re, uh, committed to each other.”

Her eyes were filled with tears, but she didn’t look surprised.

“That’s, er,” she said, “that’s ok. Thanks for talking with me.” She stood and hastily made her exit, and I immediately felt her absence.

I sighed. Maybe I could explain it all to her, once we found a way to fix Hermione.

* * *

 

 I woke suddenly and tried to jump out of bed. My body didn’t move. I heard the drawer beside my bed open and close, and a familiar figure walked into my peripheral vision holding two wands and my invisibility cloak.

“I didn’t want to have to do this,” Hermione said. I tried to talk, but my jaw, tongue, and larynx were all locked in place.

“You were right though,” she said, “people don’t always know what they want to be happy. Sometimes they need someone that loves them to decide for them.”

Dread started to pool in my gut.

She pressed her wand into my neck and trailed it lightly against my skin to my jawline and then up across my lips.I stretched them as I was now able to move them. Before I could speak she cast another spell.

“Imperio,” she said. She leaned closer until our foreheads and noses touched and my vision was filled with her eyes. “Love me,” she whispered, “be happy with me.”

Her command echoed across my mind. I felt as if I was dropped into an enormous pillow of contentment. My head swam with visions of us living happily into the future. Domesticity, children, family, love. It was all waiting for me. I wouldn’t even have to do anything, I could just passively accept this gift of everything I had ever wanted.

It was a sight straight from the Mirror of Erised.

I frowned.

The mirror had been a wonder, but also a lie, and so was this.

It wasn’t Hermione that I would be sharing that life with. She was something else. Some cheap, perverted copy of my own making, she lacked the depth and independence that the real Hermione had. To accept her would be to reject the possibility of saving the real Hermione.

“No,” I said firmly. Her hot tears dripped onto my face, but she didn’t look surprised.

“I don’t blame you, Harry,” she said. “It would be easier if you could just love me like I love you. I can see, though, that I’m not enough for you.”

I blinked. What was she talking about?

I tried to ask but found myself fully frozen.

I felt cool glass pressed against my lips and a delicious taste flow over my tongue. A love potion? Hermione’s wand pressed again into my neck and I could feel the potion slide easily down my throat. I looked at her and prepared to fend off alien thoughts, just like I had a moment ago. No such feelings assaulted me.

I was confused.

“Confundo,” Hermione intoned.

She disappeared from view.

At some point, there was a loud noise. An attack? The door, maybe?

My body unfroze, why was it frozen in the first place?

My bed shifted as someone leaned on it.

Whoever it was smelled fantastic. I turned to look and saw long red hair, a thin, delicate neck, cute freckles, and impossibly gorgeous eyes.

“Harry,” she said, “you’ve been dosed with a potion!”

I… I think I had been. My brows furrowed as I tried to recall the memory.

“Good, you’re trying to fight it off.”

It was good, wasn’t it? I was good at fighting things off.

“But there’s a problem, Harry,” she said. “She didn’t just give you an ordinary lover potion, not even Amortentia was good enough for her.”

Ginny was talking fast, which made the movement of her plump lips so fascinatingly sensusal.

“I found her notes in the library, Harry. She used a really dark potion on you, there isn’t an antidote, not exactly.”

Her speech also moved her throat about in ways that made me want to kiss it, lick it, and bite it. But.... I was supposed to be fighting something off, wasn’t I? Something important.

“There is a solution though,” Ginny said firmly. “If… if the one that you’re really in love with… if you and her have, uh, make love to each other, then the effects of the potion can be broken.”

She stopped talking, but she was breathing hard. Her chest rose and fell gently with each breath rippling through her breasts.

“I love you, Harry,” she said. My eyes snapped up to hers.

“I love you too, Ginny.” Saying that seemed like the easiest thing in the world.

Then she was kissing me. Her scent was all over me and the glory of her presence filled my vision.

Something about this wasn’t right. I was supposed to be resisting something. I thought, but the only thing that seemed wrong was that everything seemed so right, and that didn’t make any sense.

“No,” I muttered.

“Shhh,” Ginny whispered into my ear. Then she bit it softly. She trailed kisses down behind my jaw until she reached my collarbone. She licked up my neck and closed her teeth gently around my Adam's apple.

What was I thinking about again?

She pulled my hands to her waist and I felt her legs settle down around my hips. Her movement caused her shirt to ride up and the feel of her bare skin was electric.

I moaned.

Somehow my shirt disappeared.

Ginny’s hands roamed over my chest as her tongue explored my mouth.

She tasted delicious.

For a brief moment, I was frustrated by my inability to get her shirt off. I then just slipped my hands up her shirt, tickling of her ribs and grasping her pert breasts. She hummed in pleasure and then I was missing my pants and underwear too. She wasn’t kissing me anymore and the one hand she had planted on my chest wasn’t moving. Oh, the other hand was grabbing me down there. Her Hogwarts skirt was still on and the white was stretched and distorted by my roving hands as she lowered herself onto me.

Being inside her felt so warm and welcoming and simply right. My penis was like a lightning rod of nerves for my whole body.

Again it seemed like there was something I was forgetting. Something important that I just couldn’t quite call to mind.

“Stop,” I barely whispered.

She didn’t.

She bounded up and down on top of me. Her breasts sloshed back and forth hypnotically. Her gaze bore into mine with fierce desire, and I lost myself to the moment. It wasn’t long before I felt myself building towards a climax.

The way that Ginny was moaning and the way her legs shook indicated she wasn’t far off either.

As I got closer, it got harder to keep track of her, and if she orgasmed, I didn’t notice it. More and more my attention was demanded by the sensations of my penis. It felt harder and harder. I could feel her walls pressing in tightly all around me. It was almost too much pleasure until it was.

Then I was cumming.

It felt like I had burst inside of her. I sighed in relief and became aware of her keening wail. She had stopped thrusting, but her thighs shook against mine, and her inner walls trembled violently. She fell onto my chest and buried her head into the crook of my neck.

There was a shimmer of movement over her shoulder.

Someone else was here?

A light flashed and I felt my head clearing. It was Hermione that was here. She… she was here the whole time? What was she up to?

I froze in horror.

I processed who was on top of me. Ginevra Weasley. The girl who had a crush on the boy who lived. The friend that had stood by him. The family that had chosen him. The women he had grown to love.

“Are you happy now, Harry” Hermione asked.

Ginny propped herself up on her elbows and looked at me. Her eyes were just a bit more dull. “I only want you to be happy, Harry,” she said.

My bile rose in an instant. I turned and vomited over the side of my bed.


	4. Punishment

* * *

 

“Reparo!” I said.

A few chunks of rubble flew from the ground and settled into place on the wall.

“Reparo!” I said.

A few more chunks darted about, and the wall was a little closer to completion.

“Mate!” a voice interrupted me.

I turned to see Ron facing more, it looked like he had been trying to get my attention. Now that he had it, he didn’t look like he was sure what to do with it. His mouth was twisted into a half frown.

Maybe my irritation at being interrupted was showing. I took a breath and schooled my expression into something better matching what you should feel when talking to a friend.

“What can I help you with, Ron,” I asked evenly.

Well, I tried to ask evenly. Judging by his wince I had come off a bit harsh.

“It’s, er” he said. He took a breath himself. “I have eyes. I can see that you and Hermione… that something happened with you two. I know you’ve talked with both her and Ginny, and I know that you haven’t been talking to anyone the last few days.

“I just,” he continued, “really want you to know that I’ll still be your mate, no matter what happens. Like, I know I ran off that one night, but you can talk to me. You or Ginny, or Hermione probably stepped right in it and made a mess for all three of you. I know you’re all good people though. You’ll work it out and things will get better. Just talk to people, Harry. Talking to them, in particular, would probably be best.”

I felt awful. Every word he said was like a knife to the gut. I had erased his sister and girlfriend from existence and yet he as still being the best mate a guy could ask for. Meanwhile, I was pissed because he had the audacity to try to help me.

“Thanks, Ron,” I gritted out. “I just, I tried to fix things with them, and it just made everything impossibly worse. I’m afraid if I try again that ruin everything again.”

Ron nodded his understanding.

“It’s a bit easier trying to fix walls, eh,” he said.

I looked to the wall and realized he was right. I had gravitated to a simple problem with a simple solution.

“Just talk to them, alright?” he said.

I nodded and he walked away.

“Reparo,” I said. “Reparo. Reparo. Reparo. Reparo.”

* * *

 

I was interrupted sometime later by a throat clearing.

I tried to keep from scowling as I turned around, I really did. I succeeded when I found Professor McGonagall to be the one standing behind me. Apparently, my respect for and fear of her wasn’t left behind, even after fighting a war.

She wore her usual stern expression, but it was mitigated by a softening around her eyes, the tufts of hair escaping her tight bun, and the dirt marks around the edges of her robes. She was still herself, but she wasn’t here as a professor or disciplinarian.

“Our emotions seep into the magic we perform, you know,” She said to me.

I didn’t respond.

“It is clear that you are feeling are a great deal of anger and it is affecting your magic,” she said. “Anger is ill-suited to the generous and nurturing act of building.”

I couldn’t help but frown.

“Hogwarts needs to be rebuilt, and I need an outlet for my anger,” I said. “It could be more efficient, sure, but I’d rather my anger impact my own productivity rather than a person.”

She nodded, but it was with a sad frown on her face.

“Nevertheless,” she said, “it’s well past time for you to get to dinner.”

She was right.

There was barely any light coming in through the windows, so I walked towards the great hall while she went elsewhere.

They were both there, sitting at the Gryffindor table. Their plates were empty, but they were chatting over steaming mugs.

Guilt stabbed at me as I beheld Ginny. I had saved her before, but this time I had doomed her soul and spawned something else that now used her body. I felt the same guilt when I looked at Hermione, but it was mixed with a deep anger. I blamed her for what had happened to Ginny. I thought things were handled. I thought we were going to solve the problem together. What she had perpetrated was a totally unexpected betrayal.

I knew Ron was right. I knew that I should talk with them. I knew that it might even be dangerous to leave them on their own like this. But the guilt and anger were too much. I couldn’t do it. I sat on the other end of the table, alone. I pretended not to notice their shoulders slump, and their faces pull into frowns as I did so.

* * *

I shouldn’t have been surprised, but I was.

I returned to my room late that night, having wandered what was left of the halls. The room was dark except for a pair of torches ensconced on the wall. Their flickering light illuminated a bushy-haired figure dressed as I had never seen her before.

She wore dark high heels. Their angle was extreme, forcing her heel to be almost directly above her toes. Black stockings clung to her legs, from her feet all the way up to mid-thigh, where they were held in place by a garter belt. No panties covered her. Her back was similarly bare, save only for the words ‘PUNISH ME’ written in lipstick just above her waist. Her hands were held high, tied by red silk at the wrists and attached to rings in the ceiling. There wasn’t much slack. She needed every centimeter afforded her by her ridiculous heels, and even then had to place her feet close together to avoid hanging from her wrists.

As I watched, she swayed dangerously and she took several tiny steps to regain her balance.

It was unclear how long she had been waiting.

Next to her was an end table adorned with a variety of… implements. There was a riding crop alongside a selection of long, smooth, and gleaming objects.

I almost walked away.

I didn’t like the idea of mixing violence with sex. It had never appealed to me the way it did to some.

On the other hand, this stunt was far preferable to tricking another woman into being overwritten by whatever it was I did. And I was still angry at Hermione. This might just work, I hedged.

I stepped forward hesitantly and picked up the riding crop. It whooshed through the air as I gave it a few experimental swings. I noticed Hermione’s body stiffen as she heard the sounds. I lashed her butt cheek without putting too much effort into it.

Her whimper was oddly muffled.

I walked to where I could see her face and noticed red silk was also wrapped around her mouth in a gag. Her jaw was also stuck open, suggesting something was gagging her inside her mouth too. Her eyes found mine, an expression of trepidation on her face.

It pissed me off.

I scowled at her and returned to her backside. The gall. She stole Ginny’s soul and had the temerity to shy away from any consequences. There was only a slight red mark on her ass where I had struck her. I lashed her on the other cheek, a bit harder this time. She jumped and squealed, but regretted it as she fell. She was caught against the silk on her wrists and had to carefully pull herself up onto her precipitous heels.

I hit her again, but she didn’t fall. Again, and again, and again. I alternated cheeks and slowly built up the strength of each blow. As the rhythm settled in she was no longer surprised by each blow. She was leaning into them, even as they left angry red marks. In the beginning, she whimpered with each blow. Eventually, she devolved into shoulder heaving sobs.

I paused. I watched her stiffen in anticipation of the next blow. As it failed to come, her body started twitching in anxiety. I gently placed the end of the riding crop against her ass. I moved it around slowly, letting the hairs gently tickle the welts I had given her. She shivered at the treatment. I trailed it up over her naked back, down across her weeping face, along her jaw, across her slender throat, between her breasts, followed the curve of her little belly and brought it down between her legs. With care, I smacked it lightly against her pussy.

Her knees collapsed inward and she fell again. As soon as she had righted herself, I brought the crop across her ass as hard as I could. She squealed and nearly fell again.

I set the crop down and was surprised to find myself hardening at treating Hermione this way.

It was working, I thought. My anger was being exorcized, but I still had plenty left.

I selected a whip that looked like a really long tassel, and a modestly sized silver dildo. I used the tip of the latter to trace a line from the back of her knee along her inner thigh, and up to her pussy. I rubbed it across her lips and settled it at her entrance. She had frozen in anticipation of me pushing it in, but instead, I brought the oversized tassel sharply across her already swollen ass.

She fell, but I held the dildo against her pussy all the same. Just as she settled precariously on top of her heels I pushed it inside her. She moaned through her gag and wobbled, but kept her balance. I worked her over with the dildo arhythmically, not letting her settle into a groove. I even interspersed strikes with the tassel. The result was a constant tension on her part and a growing satisfaction on mine.

After several minutes of this treatment, I yanked the dildo out of her suddenly.

For a whole minute, I did nothing but watch her shake.

I dropped the tassel and took a step closer. For the first time tonight I put my hand on her flesh. I grabbed her hip. I changed my mind, though, and shifted my grip onto her throat. With the dildo, I traced the lips of her pussy. I dragged it across her opening but kept going. I moved it past her taint and circled her asshole. She stiffened for a moment but devolved into shaking whether from excitement, trepidation, or just plain exhaustion.

I began to push it in gently, her quiet mewl barely heard, but vibrating clearly through my palm. After a moment, the dildo began to stick to her walls. I removed it and thrust it back into her pussy, twisting it to get a coat of her natural lubrication. I snatched it back out and returned to working it into her anus. She started to squirm but stopped when I tightened my grip on her throat. I could feel and hear her breathing become just a bit more ragged.

Eventually, the dildo was entirely contained within her rectum. I left it there and searched the table for what I needed next. I grabbed a slightly larger dildo that had a switch for its vibration function. This one I rammed into her vagina and twisted around roughly, just to coat it in her fluids. I pulled the other one out of her anus and shoved this one in its place.

She squealed and tilted on her heels, but was able to recover her balance with a few small steps.

I reached down to pull my penis out of my pants, but it was too hard to navigate through the opening. I almost tore my pants off in my haste but thought better of it.

I made sure all the sounds I made as I disrobed were exaggerated and slow. I could feel her tension building. I took several seconds to undo my zipper. I slapped my belt against my legs as I unbuckled it. I slowly slid my pants down my legs, making a loud rasping sound as I did so. Looking down, I saw several wet spots on my boxers. My hard-on was leaking pre-cum all over the place. I pulled them down too and stepped up to Hermione’s backside.

I put my left hand back around her throat and took pleasure in the way she wheezed. My right hand took my penis and traced the edges of her ass cheeks, painting them with my glistening pre-cum. I reached her lower back and dragged my head down her ass crack. As I reached the dildo, I used my head to give it a nudge. She squirmed but, my hand tightened around her throat and she steadied. My head continued its journey through her crack and along her taint until I reached her swollen lips. My hand pressed the topside of my cock up against them as I slid it forward at a glacial pace.

She trembled.

I held it still, but dug the nails of my left hand into her soft neck. I dragged them down her body not quite hard enough to draw blood. There would definitely be marks, though. I ended with my hand holding her hip to brace her for what was coming.

I thought about it, though. Why should she have any sense of stability? She had robbed me of it, why should she get any better?

So Iined my penis up with her opening but just as I thrust into her I let go of her hip, and smacked her ass with my open palm. She tilted forward and fell off of her heels, but I continued thrusting into her.

It took her longer to get up this time. It didn’t help that I was varying my pace and slapping her cheeks to throw her off. As soon as she did get up, I activated the dildo in her ass and it began vibrating. She made a sound somewhere between a squeal and a whimper and fell down again. S

he stayed there, moaning through her gag. Despite more slaps to the ass, a constant tempo of fucking, and even a few bites, she stayed down, hanging limply from her wrists. For some reason, it turned me on even more.

She had asked to punished, and I had punished her until she couldn’t take anymore. Her ass cheeks were entirely red, with angry linear welts from the whips. Her ear and neck were bleeding from the bites I had just given her. Her wrists would likely be bruised and sore from supporting her weight. Not to mention her pussy and asshole, which had also seen a fair bit of punishment.

It felt good to look at her like this. To know that she had deserved punishment and I had made it happen. I felt myself harden even more as I thrust into her limply hanging body. I could even feel the vibrations emanating from her ass as I fucked her pussy. It was stimulating, but also yet another physical reminder of my domination of her.

I sped up as I felt an urgency overcome me. My grunts chorused with her constant moaning. A few more thrusts and I felt myself release inside of her. I throbbed in pleasure and filled her to my hilt, reveling in the sensation.

I stayed there for a full minute.

I withdrew, though I wished I could hold onto that moment for longer.

“Thanks, Hermione,” I said. “I needed this.”

I had.

I felt much better already. There was part of me that wanted to review what I had done. Part of me that knew I had gone too far. Most of me, though, was happy to stop being so angry all the time.

I reached up and untied her wrists. I caught her as she collapsed, and gently lowered her to the floor. She was unresponsive as I undid her gag, removed the rubber ball from her mouth, deactivated the vibrator and took it from her rectum.

She looked at me with heavily lidded eyes and gave a soft but exhausted smile.

That was when everything went wrong.

Her flesh bubbled.

Parts of her contracted expanded and changed color. It took several moments for the process to complete. It was a process that I recognized with dawning horror.

I relived all the things I had just done to Hermione.

Even with her consent and the extenuating circumstances created by her actions, it was borderline abusive. Maybe not even so borderline.

Laying on the ground, however, was someone who had done nothing to deserve the treatment she had just gotten, someone who had not consented, someone whom I had just brutally raped and abused.

Laying before me was Fleur Delacour.


	5. All an Act

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry, Fleur, and Hermione react to Hermione's schemes and Harry's actions.
> 
> Harry steels himself to do something hard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains some material warned about in the summary and tags.

I stood frozen in horror.

I couldn’t reconcile who I was with what I had just done.

I would do anything to protect my friends, and yet laying in front of me was the woman I had just raped, and whose identity I had replaced with one subservient to my own.

I was frozen until a soft rustling drew my attention.

I turned to see my silvery cloak fall from the shoulders of my most faithful friend, my first lover, and the woman who was making my life miserable.

She looked smug.

In a moment I was across the room and pinning her to the wall by her throat. She tried to talk, but my grip didn’t allow any words to pass through her trembling lips. Perhaps she was able to whisper and gasp, but I couldn’t hear it over the pounding of blood in my ears.

I felt consumed by my rage in ways that only Malfoy had managed to invoke in me before.

A low humming did manage to break through to me. It wasn’t coming from Hermione since her throat wasn’t vibrating. It was just expanding and contracting and gasping for air.

I felt my rage settle into manageable levels. I… I didn’t see what good it would do to strangle Hermione here, so I let go and absently watched her collapse to the floor.

I turned around without thinking and saw that Fleur had propped herself up against the wall and was humming melodically.

Things clicked for me, then.

Her Veela nature, the songs at the Quidditch World Cup, her method of subduing her dragon at the tournament.

I narrowed my eyes and willed myself to resist her manipulation. 

She surprised me by not escalating into full out song. Instead, she stopped entirely.

“Please, Harry,” she whispered, “let me give you this gift. Let me soothe your worries away.”

Her blue eyes were wide and pleading, her expression fervent. I couldn’t help but be tempted by the idea. Guilt and anger had been eating at me every day and left me no reprieve, not even in my dreams.

I looked back at Hermione’s form. Her chest heaving in deep breaths and a hand-shaped bruise forming across her throat.

I wasn’t making good decisions as it was.

I let that fact nudge me towards acceptance. I nodded at Fleur. She began singing in the softest tone I had ever heard. It was in French and I found it impossible to focus on deciphering the words.

I tried to do so. By the time I gave it up as I lost cause, I found myself laying on the floor. My head was in Fleur’s lap. The feeling of her fingers running through my hair was transcendental. I felt adored and cared for and home in all the ways that mattered.

She was right. My worries were soothed away by her songs and caresses. I could remember that I had felt anger and guilt, but couldn’t recall how those things had felt.

I was also pleasantly surprised that I was able to keep thinking. Instead of clouding my mind with lust, she cleared it of all the emotions I had been feeling so violently. I was at peace in a way that I had never been.

I turned my mind to the problem I had been failing to solve. When I could think of Hermione and her actions without calling up a hurricane of emotions, she started to make a degree of sense.

Not that I agreed with her or thought that I should let her have her way, of course. Just that she was acting with a degree of rationality given her stated desires. She wanted me to be happy, but she didn’t know what would make me happy. She saw the recovery of her lost personality as an impossibility, so when I insisted on achieving it, she was almost forced to take drastic action to ensure my happiness.

She had failed to make me happy by herself, so she had arranged things for Ginny to step in. She failed to recognize that losing the real Ginny would hurt me just as much as losing the real her had. That had also failed to make me happy.

I could see now that my self-imposed isolation hadn’t helped things. All I had done was leave slavish personalities to their own devices. Of course, they would try again. It wasn’t exactly the same; they had, no doubt, thought that Fleur’s Veela gifts would help to make me happy.

They were not entirely wrong.

The solution to my problems came to me as clear and bright as the stars of the night. First, though, I would have to put on a convincing performance.

I opened my eyes and saw Fleur looking down at me. For a moment, I was lost in depths of her eyes and the sheer radiance of her face. She was entrancing.

But I had a job to do.

With great effort, I removed myself from her. I stood and gestured for her to stop singing. She complied immediately.

Hermione was sitting on the other side of the room. She eyed me warily.

I would have to sell this. I mentally prepared myself to let go of my inhibitions and do what I needed to do.

“Hermione,” I said, “it wasn’t very nice of you to let Fleur take your punishments.”

Her eyes widened momentarily before she gave a hesitant nod.

“You should make it up to her,” I said.

Her brows furrowed slightly.

“How do you want me to do that?” she asked.

“Use your imagination,” I said.

Her eyes gleamed as she stood and walked over to Fleur. The poor girl was still clad only in black lace stockings and five-inch heels. Hermione, on the other hand, was wearing her Hogwarts uniform, though it appeared she had altered it to be slightly skimpier. Her plaid skirt was quite short, but not ridiculously so. Her white top was form-fitting and translucent enough that I could clearly see the straps and cups of her black bra. Her shirt was also more than a third of the way unbuttoned, leaving only her swaying tie to partially cover her cleavage.

This might be easier than I thought.

Before she reached Fleur, she waved her wand and floated the Veela over to land gently on my bed. She met her there and softly trailed a finger along the scratch marks I had made on Fleur’s chest and neck.

“I’m sorry for making you take my punishment,” Hermione said.

“I would not change what you have done,” said Fleur. She glanced over at me tenderly.

I swallowed. I quashed my guilt and focused on my building arousal.  
“Nevertheless,” said Hermione, “I’m to make it up to you.” 

She leaned over and began to trace those same scratches with soft kisses and delicate licks. She was bent over the bed as she stood, which caused her skirt to rise up in the back. Just barely visible was the crease where her shapely ass met her thigh. I let my gaze trail down her long legs all the way down to her bare feet. She caught me looking and raised herself up to her tiptoes and bent over just a bit more, revealing more of her ass.

I let myself sink into fantasies of flipping her skirt up and fucking her.

I could do this.

Hermione lifted her lips from Fleur’s body and brought her wand to the marks she had been lavishing with her attention.

Fleur’s hand stopped her from healing them.

“Leave them,” she said. “They are my lover’s marks.”

Hermione nodded, then looked to me questioningly.

“I was rough,” I said, “be gentle.”

She didn’t hesitate, nor did she rush. She climbed onto the bed and held herself over the impossibly beautiful blonde. Her short tie fell and rested between Fleur’s ample breasts. She leaned in and grazed Fleur’s lips with her own. I could practically feel the repeated feather-light touches as I watched.

Fleur lay still as Hermione teased her lips, but she was not entirely passive. I saw her fingers reached out to caress the bottoms of Hermione’s feet. She moved them along her Achilles tendon and traced the soft curve of her calf. She slipped her hand behind her bent knee and used the grip to tug her closer. Her other hand tugged Hermione’s top free from her skirt and caressed her bare midriff.

Fleur moaned as Hermione moved her lips down the blonde’s neck. She reached the scratches I had made down her chest and started tracing them with the very tip of her tongue. Fleur began to quiver.

With seemingly great effort she opened her eyes and looked at me. She extended her hand and beckoned me. I found myself complying.

Before I could think, I was there and Fleur’s plump red lips were gently pressing against my cockhead, the tip of her tongue teasing my penis’ opening.  
I let out something between a groan and a sigh and caressed her face and hair and neck and jaw.

Her mouth froze for a moment and I saw that Hermione had begun to lick and bite at her nipples. The cessation was only temporary, though, and Fleur pressed her lips against me firmly, movingly methodically back and forth over my head’s ridge.

I let myself get lost in the sensation. It would work better this way.

I luxuriated in the experience until the urge to fuck started to overcome me. I was hesitant to use Fleur’s mouth since I had just-

Since I had just raped her and possibly destroyed her individuality.

Suddenly the urge to fuck something hard wasn’t as urgent, but I still had a role to play.

I gently pulled myself from Fleur’s mouth, relishing the gentle ‘pop’ made by the release of suction. Her huge blue eyes watched me as I climbed on the bed and positioned myself on the other side of the two women. Fleur was laying flat on her back, still clad only in black stockings a and a garter. Her legs spread invitingly as I kneeled in between them. Hermione had straddled her and had her ass sticking high into the air as she lavished attention onto Fleur’s breasts. Her white blouse was well untucked now, revealing her bare midriff. Her plaid school skirt rode up her legs with the way she was bent over, revealing just a fraction of her white panties. The backs of her thighs faced me. They were normally quite pale, but in contrast with Fleur’s perfectly tanned legs beneath her, they seemed almost like alabaster.

I flipped her skirt up and pulled her almost non-existent white panties just to the side of her pussy and asshole. I pushed my cock alongside her lips, coating the top side of it with her arousal before I gently pressed the tip against her ass.

I looked up to find two pairs of eyes looking at mine, Hermione now resting her head against Fleur’s bosom.

I looked directly at Fleur.

“What would you like me to do?” I asked her.

I had expected her to deliberate. I had expected her to tell me to fuck Hermione roughly up her ass. I had expected her to want some form of retribution.

Instead, she answered immediately.

“Make love to me,” she said.  
Her command was laced with magic that I didn’t care to resist. 

I leaned forward to capture her red lips, forgetting about Hermione interposed between us. My body forced her down flat against Fleur and I absently pulled her head out of my way.

The moment it took to reach her felt like it was filled with a lifetime of anticipation and yet it was all fulfilled as her softness, scent, and magic all invaded my senses. I would have thought I was incapable of feeling anything else, but her legs wrapping around my waist and tugging me ignited a new and desperate need in me.

I reached one hand down to guide my cock into her opening. Before I could think, I was thrusting away inside of her. If kissing her had felt like the end of all my desires, fucking her felt like I had died in heaven and gone to a greater paradise altogether. I wanted nothing more than to keep kissing her, listening to her low moans, and feeling her walls press in against my cock. Even Hermione’s pale ass pressed against my stomach couldn’t distract me from putting my all before against and into Fleur.

In an odd sort of way, I became aware of how unaware I was becoming. I could almost consciously feel how I was ignoring Hermione, even as she pressed herself against me in rhythm with my movements. I could feel the tickle of her hair on my chest and neck fade away to be replaced by light scratches of Fleur’s nails on across my shoulders.

This didn’t concern me, but I felt that I was missing something else, something important.

I pressed into Fleur again, but instead of continuing my manic pace, I just pushed myself firmly forward, reaching into her as deeply as I could. I pulled myself away from her lips but nuzzled into her neck as I tried to recover myself.

I had planned to fall into this, but I didn’t account for Fleur’s magic. I could keep falling for her forever.

I pulled my hips back and began again, but at a more sedate pace. My own pace. I kissed along Fleur’s collarbone. I spared a hand to run through Hermione’s hair. She pressed her head against my touch. I leaned over to whisper against her ear.

“Pleasure her,” I instructed.

She had been frozen, unsure to react as Fleur and I had ignored her entirely, but now she started to adore Fleur’s chest and neck with her hands and mouth. I trailed my hand down her neck, past her shoulder, slowly along her ribs and gripped her hip. I pulled her against me as I continued my deliberate thrusts into Fleur.

I found myself attached to Fleur’s mouth and increasing my pace. I- I didn’t remember deciding to do that. I needed to change something to keep control of myself.

I pulled away and out of Fleur, getting back onto my knees. Hermione and Fleur were both looking back at me expectantly.

“Hermione, get off,” I said. “Fleur, roll over.”

They obeyed, Fleur with a whispered “Avec plaisir.” 

I stopped for a moment to admire Fleur’s prone body as she lay flat and straight before me. Her legs were thin but elegantly muscled and impossibly long. Along her naked form I could see no tan lines. Her butt was just the right combination of sculpted muscle and soft flesh. Similarly, her back was a seemingly contradictory combination of delicate softness and strength. Her long platinum blonde hair flowed to one side as her head turned and she looked back at me with her blue eyes. Watching me watching her, drinking my attention in.

I scooted forward and pulled her into the air by her hips. She obediently settled her knees beneath her hips, presenting her ass and glistening open pussy to me. I positioned my cockhead at her entrance and rubbed it along her lips teasingly. I pushed it in just enough to widen her already spread lips then pulled it out. I lifted it placed it against her asshole and pressed it just past her initial pucker. She was still loose from the dildo I had used earlier, but not loose enough.

“Hermione,” I said, “get her ready.”

Hermione dove at Fleur’s ass, gripping her cheeks with both hands. She leaned over an started licking all around Fleur’s rear entrance.

I paused as my cock throbbed. I had thought she would go grab some lube and a few dildos, but i was not about to start complaining.

Instead, I moved my cock back to Fleur’s pussy and squeezed myself into her tight folds. Her walls squeezed against the sides of my penis and her position put a downward pressure on me that felt wonderful to push against. Within a few thrusts, I buried myself balls deep in her, my abs forcing Hermione’s head back.

I took ahold of myself, figuratively, and forced a slow pace. It was all the more difficult as Fleur seemed to have an instinct for precisely when to give my cock an extra squeeze. I tried to avoid focusing on her face, with delicious lips held open or sometimes held between her rows of white teeth. Her large blue eyes open, but unfocused dilated in pleasure.

I groaned and Hermione looked up at me, her mouth still hanging open. I took the opportunity to escape Fleur’s control and slipped my cock into her mouth. She was only shocked for a moment before she started slurping at it. She blushed heavily and for some reason, I was sure that it was the effect of Fleur’s arousal that she was imbibing off of my penis.

While I distanced myself from climax in Hermione’s mouth, I slipped my index finger into Fleur’s ass. There was plenty of room until I felt her contract herself around me. I replaced that finger with a thumb. I moved it about, testing her readiness. There was room for more than a thumb, but I would have to be slow and cautious. That suited me.

Without noticing, I had grasped the back of Hermione’s neck with my other hand and was forcefully face-fucking her, holding her still and thrusting past the back of her mouth. I pulled out suddenly and watched her gasp for breath.

It was good that this would be the last time.

I pushed my head into Fleur’s ass. She squirmed but reached back with both hands to pull her buttcheeks wider and give me just a bit more room. I went back and forth glacially, moving fractions of centimeters at a time. I had worked myself only about an inch and a half in when I felt myself start to stick to the sides of Fleur’s intestines. 

I pulled out and Hermione, unprompted, took me into her mouth and began coating my member with her saliva. I heard Fleur utter a satisfied moan and noted that Hermione had snuck her hand under Fleur’s leg and was rubbing circles around her clit. As she pulled me out of her mouth she sank her fingers into Fleur’s pussy then grabbed my cock with that hand and spread Fleur’s juices around on it. Her other hand had been buried in her own vagina, but she now brought it out and used her fingers to coat the inside of Fleur’s ass with her own lubricant.

I grabbed Hermione by the neck and pulled her into a searing kiss before leaning down and biting her sharply on the neck. She gasped. I didn’t draw blood, but I had certainly left a mark.

I returned my attention to Fleur. We were pretty well lubed and I was harder than ever. I sank into her and gloried in the feeling of her intestinal wall hugging against me. Pushed in to two inches deep relatively quickly and kept a methodical pace of thrusting in and out. Hermione kept her hands working over bother her own and Fleur’s pussy. She would occasionally use a hand to relubricate my cock on a slow backstroke.

I made it to three inches and was just starting to feel a fantastic pressure against my frenulum.

Four inches in and the thrusts began to feel like full thrusts. The rate at which I was working more of myself into her ass was the same, but it was starting to be more satisfying. My eyes were closed, but apparently, this was not satisfactory to Hermione. While keeping her hands busy with pussies, she rose up and started kissing, licking, and sucking at my neck. With my eyes closed, I had nothing to focus on but intoxicating sensations. I was nearing a climax. I was tempted to open my eyes, but I knew that what I saw would only bring it closer. 

I sank in deeper. I didn’t open my eyes to look, but it felt like the majority of my cock was buried in Fleur’s warmth. Even the thought of what lay before me threatened to set me off too soon. Fleur’s ass held high in the air, just for me. The sight of her breasts smashed against the bed, jiggling with the rhythm of my thrusts. Looking down I would see myself ramming into Fleur’s ass, Hermione’s dextrous fingers plunging into their pussies, and her own body barely concealed by her too-small and disheveled outfit.

Dammit, I wasn’t supposed to think about it!

With a slap of flesh, I realized that I made it all the way inside. I paused to let her body adjust to my position and the revel in her warmth and tightness.

After a moment, I resumed my pace, as before. This time, I slowly built up speed. Fleur moved her hands to the bed to steady herself. I gripped her hips and started pulling her towards me with each thrust.

Her moans were a constant keening, now, punctuated with a sharp uptick as she received each push. Her rising volume matched my own building climax. We both hung on the edge for what could have been a second or an hour. Eventually, I heard her gasp and felt her anus tighten around me. I could also faintly feel the muted convulsions of her pussy even from her intestines.

Finally, I opened my eyes.

I wasn’t prepared for the sight of Fleur’s body convulsing and shaking and setting delicious ripples throughout her flesh. Her legs collapsed and she fell into a prone position on the bed even as I crossed the point of no return.

I followed her down. I couldn’t pull out, not when I was so close. I put my hands beside her shoulders and continued to pound into her, even as Hermione was trying to pull her arm free. Fleur was still shaking as I felt my climax arrive. My frenulum felt like a fire hose as I pumped semen up Fleur’s digestive tract. I could feel it start to coat her insides as I began to slow my pace. A few more thrusts and I stopped while fully inside her. 

I kissed her neck gently and listened as her breathing steadied. We were both still as we came down and felt myself shrink within her. 

After a few long minutes, I pulled out and sat back on my calves. Fleur rolled over and gave me a look of utter contentment. I traced a line from her knee to the bottom of her foot and back.

“I have a job for you,” I said.

“Anything,” she said.

“This one,” I nodded to Hermione, “deserves a turn, but still hasn’t been properly punished.”

“Oui,” said Fleur.

“I want you to pleasure her in any way that you see fit, but don’t let her come until I get back,” I said.

Hermione looked at me with wide eyes.

“Avec plaisir,” said Fleur.

I turned and dressed as casually as I could, ignoring the muffled squirming behind me. I had performed well, and now was the only moment left I could blow it. I left the room pretty sure that Hermione was fooled.

I sprinted through the halls.

I could fix this. There was a way, a simple way to sever these bonds I had unconsciously formed. To end it. Maybe they would even come back to themselves afterward.

Whatever the case, it would be better for them. They wouldn’t be enslaved to me anymore.

My lungs burned, but it didn’t stop me from taking staircases three steps at a time. One wasn’t finished moving when I got to the top, so I leaped the remaining distance. I burst through a heavy door and started up a familiar staircase. 

My body was screaming at me to stop. I kept going.

I only paused after I had burst past the last stair, darted across the roof and stepped up onto the ledge. The night was clear and I had a moment to wonder if this, too, was written in the stars.

Then I leaped forward.


End file.
